


Luck of the Draw

by imstillthatwitch



Category: Criminal Minds, Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Behavioral Analysis Unit (Criminal Minds), Cocky Spencer Reid, F/M, Spencer Reid - Freeform, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:14:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24456511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imstillthatwitch/pseuds/imstillthatwitch
Summary: When the BAU gets a case involving the elusive club Prodigy and it's owner, Spencer Reid, you think nothing of it. But when he ends up being more than just the main suspect, your world is turned upside down.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Comments: 24
Kudos: 167





	1. Chapter 1

You used to hate planes. The trip to the airport, the journey to the gates, the lift off, the landing; all of that stuff used to make you absolutely nauseous.

But as Penelope rattled off how the two victims for this week’s case were connected through the plane monitor, you felt calm. You were in your element with a new case and your team. A little plane ride was nothing.

“You said both girls were dancers at a club, Garcia?” Morgan asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Ah yes! A club called Prodigy, a mix of both a casino and strip club. I’ll send you the address now.”

“A hybrid of a strip club and a casino? In Las Vegas? Interesting.” JJ commented.

You looked at the photos of the two girls, grimacing at the obvious overkill. You could already tell that this one was going to be a rough one.

“Alright, me and Rossi will go to the sheriff’s office and set up there. JJ and Emily will go to the M.E. and take a look at the bodies. Y/N and Morgan will go to Prodigy and talk with the owner, see if he saw anything.” Hotch states, earning a nod out of everyone.

It was almost dusk when you and Morgan arrived at the club, flashing your IDs at the bouncer.

“Is the owner here? We would like to speak with him.”

“Yes. He’s in his VIP booth. Just follow the gold line on the floor.” The bouncer pulled the golden double doors open, and you followed Morgan inside.

The flashy exterior of the club was completely outshine by the fine decor of the interior. The walls were made of a dark mahogany wood that matched the brown flooring, making the club look more like a high class library. Twinkling silver and gold chandeliers that hung from the ceiling castes beams of light against the walls, making the room look almost ethereal.

Girls were already practicing on metallic gold poles, their platforms surrounded by brown and black leather seats and poker tables. There was a gold line painted on the brown tile, and your boots clicked against it.

You catch Morgan watching some of the dancers practicing and chuckle. 

“You can always come back when we’re not on a case, Derek.”

He laughed, looking back at you. “Hey, I was just making sure they looked good before-“

“-If you mess with my girls, you mess with me.”

“Shh! That must be the owner.”

You and Morgan stop right before the steps to the VIP booth. It’s pretty high up, so you can't see anything, but you definitely heard something.

“If I hear one more time that you're harassing my girls, you’re gonna wake up to the barrel of a gun in between your eyes. You understand?”

“If he’s threatening someone for harassing the dancers, he wouldn’t kill them. We should definitely bring in the guy that was messing with them though, he’s a suspect.” Morgan whispered, right as the guy in question walked past.

“Go get him and bring him to the station. I’ll talk to the owner.” You waved him off, heading up to the VIP booth.

You knew all about this guy from the file Garcia sent to you, but you did not expect him to be surrounded by several stacks of books with a small glass in his hand.

The man who sat at the booth was skinny with broad shoulders, his light brown hair halfway down his neck and unkempt, his facial hair stark against his pale skin. His black and gold button up was loose against his frame, and you could see a thin silver chain hanging from his neck. A pair of colored glasses sat on his nose, but you could tell his eyes raked over you as you approached.

“Dmitri didn’t say anyone else had an appointment. Are you here to apply as a dancer? You do have the right body type for it.” He asked, taking off his glasses and giving you a look.

You got this all of the time when you questioned people like him. But something about the way he looked at you up and down, his brown eyes flickering with untold mischief, gave you a pleasant shiver down your spine.

But you were on a case, there was no time to be distracted by this mysterious man. People’s lives were at stake.

“No. I’m Special Agent Y/N L/N from the FBI. I assume you’re the owner, Spencer Reid?” You questioned, flashing your credentials.

“You assume correctly. I would shake your hand, but you’re here to question me, correct? That’s the only reason you would come in here before it got too wild.”

“I am here to question you, Mr. Reid. Specifically about your two dancers, Elizabeth Daniels and Charlie Sinclair.”

He took a sip of his drink. “Go ahead.”

“Were they working last night?”

“Yes. Liz was serving the patrons at the poker tables and Sin was dancing for the whole night.”

“Did you see them leave with anyone that they wouldn’t usually serve or give a dance to?”

“I’m not sure. I only decide where they are for a shift. I leave whenever everyone else has already left. What is this about?”

You knew that question was coming. You took a deep breath before continuing.

“Last night, both Elizabeth and Charlie were found dead about 5 miles from Prodigy.”

His eyes widened.

“Are you serious? Must have been Savage who just walked out of here. He was just harassing a few of them a couple nights ago. I would never do anything to hurt my girls. If they need a place to sleep-”

“Mr. Reid, it’s alright. My partner is taking him into questioning right now. Do you know anyone else who might have seen Elizabeth or Charlie leave?”

He paused for a moment, taking another sip of his drink.

“Yeah. Some of the girls who were working with them last night are here. Go down the stairs, and there’s a door right next to the bar with a sign. They should be in there.” He continued.

“I will go speak with them then. If you remember anything strange that happened last night, please don't hesitate to call.” 

You pulled a business card out of your breast pocket, placing it in front of his glass.

Before you could descend back to the main floor, a thin hand gripped onto your wrist like a vice, pulling you back.

You were pulled over the table, Mr. Reid’s face so close to yours that you could smell the whiskey in his breath and the sharp spice of his cologne.

“Agent Y/N. You know, statistically 60% of exotic dancers have another job outside of dancing and make over $100k a month. So, if you get bored of catching the monsters and want to have a little fun on the side, give me a call. Auditions are always going on.” He hummed, a playful smile gracing his face.

He let go of you, and you looked to your hand to find his business card nowhere to be found.

“Oh. Check behind your barrette.”

You dug your fingers into your hair directly behind your barrette and found a gold and brown card, adorned with the owner's contact information.

With that, you left the VIP booth in silence. You had a job to do.


	2. Chapter 2

By the time you finished questioning the girls that were working that night, it was already late, so you retreated back to the hotel with the rest of the team.

The next morning, a nice cup of coffee from the sheriff’s office greeted you as everyone shared what they found.

“As we know, most of the stab wounds on the victims were done post-mortem, signifying that the unsub had an unknown rage towards the victims. However, the derogatory words written on the victims with red lipstick show possible jealousy and hatred.” Prentiss stated, tapping the pictures taped to the evidence board.

“Maybe the jealousy was money related? Exotic dancers are known to make over $100k a month, maybe they wanted that and killed them for it?” Rossi asked.

“If you want to take a break from catching the monsters and have a little fun on the side, give me a call..”

Mr. Reid’s proposition rang in your ears, and you had to take a long sip of your coffee to force you back to the present.

Not now, Y/N. Focus on the bitterness of the coffee.

“Anything on who made the lipstick, Garcia?” Morgan contested.

“Ah yes! It was made by the owner of the make-up brand ‘Seductive Belle’, Marjorie Peterson, and luckily she has a store in the Forum shops in Caesar's Palace.” Garcia returned.

“Thanks, babygirl. We’ll hit you back if we have anything else.”

“Then I bid you adieu for now, my loves!”

You hid your smile with another sip of coffee. You should start making a list of all of the ways she greets the group.

“We’ll need to see if anyone who was not in her usual customer pool came in asking for that color of lipstick. L/N? What did you get from Spencer Reid?”

You blinked a couple of times at Hotch’s question before answering.

“When we got there, we heard him threatening Micheal Savage about harassing some of the dancers. When I spoke to him, he was genuinely surprised about Elizabeth and Charlie being dead. He had no ill intent to hurt or be angry at those girls.”

“We should still bring him in for questioning.”

You nodded, jotting down a reminder to bring him in.

“Morgan, anything from Michael?”

“He has an-“

A knock on the conference room door cut Morgan’s statement short, and a young female officer peeked her head in.

“Agent L/N? There’s a man here requesting to speak to you.” She said, earning some weird looks from the rest of the team.

Your cheeks flushed, and you let out a small ‘excuse me’ before following the officer out of the room. 

When you walked to the front of the sheriff’s office, you expected that maybe one of the girls had some extra information on the latest victims, or maybe one of the bouncers with dirt on Micheal Savage. But you were dead wrong.

He looked different this time. His colored glasses were nowhere to be found, his clothes crinkled as if he had trouble putting them on. The smile that you saw last night was nowhere to be found as you walked up to him, instead being replaced with a worried frown.

“Mr. Reid. I told you to call the number on the card if you remembered anything about that night.” You stated. 

He sighed before handing you a manila envelope. A poorly written ‘Dr. Spencer Reid’ was written in what looked like a red pen, and it looked like it was rewritten several times.

“This was something I couldn’t explain in a phone call. Found it in my desk this morning and I knew I had to give it to you in person.” He mumbled, the mischief in his brown eyes replaced with worry.

What could make the guy who was just trying to charm you a couple hours before shake in his probably priceless dress shoes?

You watched David and Mr. Reid from the other side of the room, a one sided mirror separating them from you, Prentiss, and JJ.

“I’ve said this once and I am glad to say it again. I want to speak with Agent Y/N L/N please.”

“You will, we just have to ask you a few questions first.” Rossi replied, using a softer tone to not aggravate the club owner.

“Why does he want to speak with you so bad, Y/N? Did you do something while you were talking to him to piss him off?” Emily asked, and you had to stop yourself from groaning in annoyance.

“Quite the opposite. When I first walked up to speak with him, he asked if I was there to apply to be one of his dancers while also saying that I ‘had the body for it’. Then he said if I still was thinking about being a dancer to call him, and gave me his card.” You explained, pulling the gold and brown card out of your pocket.

JJ took the card from your hand, inspecting it.

“Not the first time that’s happened in cases like these. So, he’s attracted to you?” JJ asked.

You almost laughed at that question. He, the owner of Prodigy, proposed that you be one of his exotic dancers, aka his money maker. 

“No. He would have been more flirty if so. He sees me as a business opportunity, a way to make him more money. He’ll probably ask me the same question if I go in there now.”

At that note, Rossi entered the room, hitting Mr. Reid’s file against his palm.

“I don’t think we can get any more out of him until you go in there, L/N. Hotch will be in here in a minute to watch over the two of you, just in case.” He sighed, and you gave him a quick nod before leaving to head inside.

The click of the interrogation room door was met by a sigh of relief by the club owner.

“I have been asking to speak with you for over an hour. You know, you can only hold me for 48 hours before you have to either let me go or charge me-”

“I know that, Mr. Reid-”

“Please, just call me Spencer.” He retorted as you sat down.

“Spencer. Let’s talk about the envelope you brought me today. It seems like someone really has a grudge against you.” You replied, keeping cool against his snappy tone.

You pulled out the envelope from your bag, all of its contents already separated into individual evidence bags. You tapped at the messy ‘Dr. Spencer Reid’scrawled on top.

“Didn’t know you had a doctorate. Impressive.”

“I have three of them, actually. I have only shared this information with my mother and some of her friends. Mom always loved showing off her favorite genius.”

You assumed that he would be cocky about this fact, but instead he sounded…..dismissive. Almost as if he didn’t want his whole being to be just about how smart he was.

“Let’s talk about the letter and the pictures now.”

You pulled out the letter, which was also written hastily and was also almost unreadable. The pictures followed, both containing two girls tied to different bead frames, facing each other.

“I recognize the girls in the pictures. Rachel Moran and Lynn Scott, also known as Sage and Rose by the other girls. They were working last night.” He said, his tone now changed to something more of angst.

He was upset. He cared for the dancers. He wouldn’t have killed them.

“Can we get the time tables for last night? And the security tapes from the cameras outside the club?”

He nodded and you nodded as well, signalling one of your teammates from the other side of the glass.

“And what about the letter?” You picked it up, placing it in front of him.

Spencer picked it up, analyzing it.

“At first, I could barely even read it. But after looking at it a bit more, I started to recognize the words.”

“And?”

“It’s a section of the love poem ‘Love Sonnet XI’ from famous poet Pablo Neruda repeated over and over. ‘I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measures of your steps. I hunger for your sleek laugh, your hands the color a savage harvest, hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails, I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.’” He explained.

Someone who has a unseen hatred for Spencer’s dancers, who he cared for deeply, who knew his schedule enough to sneak in and out of his office without him noticing, and send him a love letter with information that only Spencer knew scrawled at the front.

The unsub was his stalker. And if he didn’t notice them soon, things would escalate.

Before you could share your findings, your phone chimed. You pulled it out of your pocket, taking a look at it.

Aaron Hotchner

We have enough. Prentiss and Rossi are on their way to Prodigy now to get the time cards and security camera footage. He is free to go.

You cleared your throat and Spencer gave you a concerned look.

“Am I free to go?”

“Yes. Two of my teammates are on the way to your club to get some more evidence.”

“I will comply and let them in. I want to find them as well. Thank you, Agent L/N.”

A thank you? You were flattered, truly.

As you escorted Spencer out of the interrogation room, he seemed less worried now. He had a small grin on his face and his walk had an air of confidence that was there when he got to the station.

“If you have anything else that could help us find Rachel and Lynn, please call the number on the card I gave you.” You reminded him.

“Like I said before, you could be a part of that 60%, Agent L/N. My card is in your back pocket this time. See you soon.” He chirped, almost as if you two were not just talking about his missing dancers.

He walked off, and you pulled yet another one of his cards out of your back pocket.

Moments like those made you think that he wasn’t as innocent as you thought.


	3. Chapter 3

After questioning Spencer and seeing him leave as if he was not at risk, you were left with a bad taste in your mouth. How could someone who had a high-risk lifestyle only be worried about his dancers and not himself?

You pondered that as you stepped inside the storefront of Seductive Belle, followed by Morgan.

The sensor on the doorway rang at your arrival, and a small, middle-aged woman dressed in a 50s style dress popped up from behind the register.

“Hi, welcome to Seductive Belle, how can I help y’all today?” She chirped, taking an extra look at Morgan. 

“Hello ma’am, I’m Agent Derek Morgan and this is my partner, Agent Y/N L/N. We’re here with the FBI, and we were wondering if anyone has been in the shop recently that was not a part of your usual clientele?” He stated.

“Actually, there was a man who came in a week ago who bought all of my lipsticks in the color ‘Redrum’. It took me days to get a new shipment! Let me go get my receipt book and my laptop, and I can show you the security footage.” The lady, who you assumed was the owner, replied.

As she scurried back through a doorway in the back of the store, your phone rang.

“You ok here?”

Morgan gave you a small smile. “A small lady who runs a beauty shop is not going to hurt me, L/N. Take the call.”

You stepped out of the store, putting the phone up to your ear.

“Garcia. What’s up?”

“Hey! So you usually update me on any breaks in the case, ya know, because I’m basically blind here until you guys call for me like the amazing oracle that I am. And the only people who have updated me are Hotch and JJ, and I do love them but they’re just not as fun as you-”

You didn’t hold back your smile as Garcia went on. She was your best friend on the team, and many times after really bad cases you would have sleepovers where you would watch cute animal movies together and she would hold you as you cried from whatever terrible thing occurred during the cases. And she was right, you did usually update her on what’s going on with the case, so you felt bad.

“Garcia, I’m sorry. Currently, Morgan is in Seductive Belle talking with the owner, who said that she had a guy who was not part of her customer pool come in a week ago. Again, I’m sorry about not updating you. I’ve had a lot on my mind at the moment.” You explained, and you swore that you could hear her starting to type on the other line.

“It’s okay! Penny for your thoughts?”

You looked back at the store, seeing Morgan looking over the owner’s laptop as the owner spoke, her words muted.

“Sure. I just can’t stop thinking about this guy! He went from offering me a job, to being distraught about other people even though he is extremely at risk, and then back to acting like nothing is wrong! And he specifically asked for me, Garcia. He didn’t ask to see just any officer. He. Asked. For. Me.”

At the end of your vent, you could hear Garcia sigh softly.

“Sister, you’re a profiler. You have his whole file at your fingertips, now with more information that he provided FOR YOU. Look through it, figure out why he acts the way he does in the face of tragedy. Also…..I don’t want to imply anything but…..maybe he likes you? You did say that he commented on your body when you met him, so that could be why he was looking for you at the station.”

You guffawed at the last few statements.

“Likes me? Garcia, he sees me as a cash grab, nothing more nothing less. Besides, he hasn’t talked to me the way Morgan talks to you. When are you going to make a move, girl? You need to snatch him up before someone else does!” You insisted, and you could hear her gasp.

“Y/N M/N L/N, you did not just make this about me! We are just friends, and you know that!”

“Oh really? ‘Baby girl we need you more than ever!’ ‘Oh I love it when you talk to me like that’ ‘Don’t make me spank you when I get back’-”

“Ahem.”

You spun around to find Morgan with a file and a hard drive in his hands. You let out a nervous laugh.

“Oh Mom! You’re so silly! Gotta go bye!” You quickly hung up the phone, and Morgan shook his head.

“Not gonna ask what that was. Let’s get this back to the team.” He retorted.

The man signed with Spencer Reid’s name, he used cash, and he hid his face from the cameras.

You couldn’t see the girls getting abducted from the outside security cameras at Prodigy, Spencer’s alibi checks out, and the footage of last night from his office was destroyed. None of the employees have any charges against Spencer, so the team was back at square zero.

There were still two girls missing, and you had no leads. 

Not even trying to find out why Spencer acted the way he did could ease your mind. And you could feel the tension as the team sat in the conference room, brooding.

“I think we’ve done enough for tonight. Go back to the hotel, I will call you guys if we have any updates.”

You could feel your heart drop as everyone began to leave. You knew that every lead had come up to a dead end and the team did all that they could, and you still felt like you should have done more. 

But as you stepped out of the sheriff’s department, your angst was replaced with that confusion about that stupid club owner, Spencer goddamn Reid. 

If you couldn’t find answers in his file, you would go straight to the source.

When you stepped up to the golden doors of Prodigy, the bouncer waved you inside, almost as if he was waiting for your arrival.

Inside, the golden poles that once had dancers wrapped around them were empty, and all you could see was one lit up poker table in the middle of them.

You expected that Spencer would be playing a round with his buddies, maybe even betting actual money. But he was just standing at the table, messing with a deck of cards by himself.

“Spencer?”

His head popped up, and when he met your eyes and grinned, that same shiver went down your spine.

“Ms. L/N. You came to take me up on that offer? I sent all the girls home for their safety, but I can have one come to teach you some tricks if you would like.”

And there it was.

“No thank you. I like my job of catching the monsters.” You snapped as you stepped up to his table.

“Fair enough. Would you like a drink? I can make a good old fashioned about 90% of the time.”

You let out a light chuckle before responding.

“No thank you. Technically I’m still on the clock. I just came to ask a few questions.” You responded and he shrugged, taking a few sips out of his own glass.

“Care to ask those questions over a game of cards?”

You had nothing to lose here, so why not.

“Sure, but can we do war? My friend is one of the best poker players but she refuses to teach me.” You stated, and he started shuffling his deck.

“Maybe I could teach you when everything’s back to normal.”

The tone in his voice was different than usual. Not upset, or cocky, but...flirty?

No. He saw you as a way to make him money. He JUST asked you about that offer. What the hell were you thinking?

The deck was cut and you started off strong. You were going to use that advantage to get what you wanted.

“So. I was wanting to ask. How can you go from being worried about these girls to acting as if nothing is wrong a few minutes later?”

Spencer stopped, his fingers about to flip over whatever card was going to go against your queen of hearts.

“I can’t just sit around and constantly act like I’m at risk. I have a club I need to look after, there’s no time to act helpless.”

His smile had changed into a harsh line, his eyes lowered to his cards.

“A club with what customers? You need-”

Suddenly, he reached over the table and pulled you in by your blazer, your face inches from his own. 

It was almost like the last time this happened, but now the fury in his brown eyes made your hand fly to your gun holster.

“Do not tell me what I fucking need, Agent. I’m safer here than I am at home. Besides, I was able to handle this whole thing by myself last time.” He growled.

He kept you there a bit longer than usual, looking at you with such intensity before letting you go.

“Wait...last time? This has happened before and you decided to not tell me?” You sputtered, and you could see Spencer’s face soften.

“I was going to-”

“When?”

Your phone chirped for the second time today with a text from Hotch.

One of the girl’s bodies was found.

“I have to go.”

You ran out of the club, ignoring Spencer calling your name.


	4. Chapter 4

SPENCER’S POV

Spencer could feel his guilt eating him alive as he sat in the interrogation room. 

He knew that if he had turned in the love letters he had gotten over the years, Sage wouldn’t have died. 

He promised that he would protect them, and now they were getting killed off left and right because of his stupid mistakes. 

The loud click of the interrogation room door snapped Spencer out of his thoughts, and a familiar agent stepped into the room.

Agent Y/N. Her knuckles were white against the multiple evidence bags in her hands, and she roughly pulled out the chair on the other side of the table so she could sit in front of him.

He could feel her anger rising from her silence. And he completely understood it. He did, in fact, keep evidence from her and her team that could of greatly helped them in the case.

But he couldn’t help but look back to earlier that night, when he snapped. He had noticed how her hand flew to her gun holster, but that didn’t faze him. It was the sweet floral of her perfume and the beautiful curve of her face so close to his that ignited something in him.

Something almost….loving. She reminded him of someone he once knew.

“Spencer.”

It was like the way she got his attention earlier, but this time her tone was deadpan.

“Sorry. What did you say?”

She took a deep breath in before continuing.

“Why didn’t you tell me about these other letters when you came by earlier?”

“I...I didn’t think they were connected at the time. I realized it as you were questioning me tonight-”

“Bullshit.”

He was taken aback. He had never heard Agent Y/N speak to him like that.

“I’m not lying about that, Y/N-”

“No. You will address me as Agent L/N and Agent L/N only, understand? I am not your friend.” She spat, her harsh tone making Spencer’s head spin.

He could tell that this was a Y/N that not many people got to see, and it peaked his interest. What other sides of her had he not seen yet, and did he truly want to see it.

He gave a small nod to her command, and she got out of her chair and walked to the door.

“Agent Rossi will question you further. Hopefully you tell him everything so you don’t have to come back to this room for a third time, Mr. Reid.”

Her departure hurt him almost as much as her use of Mr. Reid.

ROSE’S POV

Rose watched as the man stripped the bloodied sheets from the bed across from her.

Sage was dead. And she was forced to watch as the killer stabbed her over and over. 

Rose could barely even scream anymore, and she was starting to lose hope. 

Spencer made her and the other dancers a promise that he would keep them safe. Where was he now? 

“Can’t you clean up any quicker? You’re just as slow as dad was.”

That voice. It was the girl from earlier. The one who laughed as she dug her knife into Sage’s lifeless body.

As she continued berating her partner, Rose pulled at her restraints. She knew that it was no use, but she had to keep trying to keep Sage’s memory alive.

“Please, let me go! I promise I won’t tell anyone!” She rasped, and the girl gave her a glare.

“Renee, maybe we should let her go. You’ve already got the attention of the feds-“

Renee swung her hand back, delivering a hard slap to the side of her partner’s face.

“I will not stop until Spencer notices my efforts, Devon. He cares about these skanks too much.” She spat, her bright red hair bouncing with her movements.

She skipped over to Rose, a big grin etched onto her face.

“And you’re gonna be my biggest effort yet!”

She prayed that someone would save her.

Y/N’S POV

Hotch pulled you aside after you met with Spencer, concerned painted on his usually stern face.

“We’ve had many cases where a suspect held information from us. Why are you getting upset at this one? You usually don’t bat an eye.”

You had cooled down a bit, and at his question, you were unsure.

“I’m-not sure, sir.” 

“Not sure? Y/N, do I need to take you off the case? I can’t have you be a loose cannon when we find the unsub.” Hotch stated, and you shook your head.

“No sir. I got a little bit too angry. I promise it won’t happen again.”

Hotch was silent for a moment, tapping his pen against his file.

“Alright. Mr. Reid will be going into protective custody until we catch this unsub. You will be his main officer and watch over him. Understood?”

You gave him a small ‘yes sir’, even though you were now even more pissed off.

You were just saying that he was not your friend, and now you had to watch over him like a little baby? You couldn’t believe it.

You walked towards the interrogation room. If you couldn’t be on the field, you would help with intel.

Nearly an hour later, the team had pulled two specific names from the letters: Angel and Demon. Angel was assumed to be the unsub, since she was the one signing the letters. Demon was a partner that she mentioned sometimes as her ‘brother’. 

The only DNA they could find was a small patch of red hair taped to one of the letters, so the team was stuck until the results came back from the lab.

After everyone was debriefed, you were sent to bring Spencer back to Prodigy to finish closing up before following him to his place of residence. 

He was already chatty when he got into the SUV.

“That agent, David Rossi, is a pretty decent guy. I wouldn’t mind playing a round of hold em with him.” He chirped, and you let out a dry chuckle.

“You know he’s an FBI Agent, right? One slip of the tongue and you’re in jail for tax fraud.” You responded.

“That is not how I run Prodigy. I pay my taxes like everyone else. I’m not in any mob business-“

“Oh really? Then what was the ‘you’re gonna wake up to the barrel of a gun between your eye’ that I heard last night?”

“That was a bluff. Having a good poker face during a game really helps when you need to fake threaten someone.”

There was a pause.

“Besides, you weren’t supposed to hear that.”

His voice was soft and sad, almost guilty. 

“Look Y/N, I’m sorry-“

“Sorry for what exactly? Sorry for lying? Sorry for hiding evidence? Sorry for getting me to trust you even though you only see me as another business deal?” You argued, meeting Spencer’s eyes through the rear view mirror.

“Business deal? Y/N, I respect you fully as an agent, and I never hid anything from you on purpose. And I never lied to you either.”

The familiar bright sign and golden double doors of Prodigy kept you from snapping back. You parked in front of the entrance, turning towards Spencer.

“Go in, get whatever you need, and lock up. We will finish our discussion later.”

He was quiet as he exited the SUV, his tall figure disappearing behind Prodigy’s doors.


	5. Chapter 5

The ride to Spencer’s apartment was quiet, and the library-esque decor didn’t surprise you at all, given the decor in his club.

Books were scattered everywhere, with some placed neatly in one of the bookshelves lined up against the walls and others stacked almost ceiling high.

Spencer was quick to take some of them off the coffee table as you stood by the door.

“Sorry, I don’t usually have guests.”

There was a tinge of sadness in his voice, and it sort of dampened the anger that you had for him.

“It’s ok. Hopefully, my team and I end up catching this ‘Angel’ person soon so everything can go back to normal.”

“Normal? Normal is going to be me facing the wrath of Liz, Sin, and Sage’s families for not making good on my promise to protect them. My girls will always be in fear of being hurt because of what this bitch did to their friends. I know you and your team are doing your best to catch this ‘Angel’ person, but it won’t help fix the aftermath.” Spencer snapped, slamming his books down on the floor.

Before you could utter off a response, he marched off, his bedroom door slamming behind him.

You guessed that was all he was going to say for now.

About an hour later, Spencer stepped out of his room, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Do you want to get some take out? There’s this great Thai place open 24 hours that we could get food from.” He asked.

You were taken aback. Earlier, the two of you were clashing like swords, arguing over what he did. But now he was offering you food? 

However, you were never the type to turn down free food.

“Sure. I’m guessing this is a sort of apology for earlier?” You replied, and he ran his hand through his disheveled hair.

“Yes, it is. I usually have this barrier set up to keep me from blowing up, but things have been….stressful lately.” 

Something in you weeped for him. The mysterious club owner you met just a few nights ago was gone, and instead replaced with a guy who just wanted to keep the people he cared for safe.

You watched him as he grabbed the phone to order, noticing how his usual charm that he had around you was dimmed.

Almost as if he wanted you to see him for him.

When the take-out arrived, both of you sat on the couch and ate, a good space in between the both of you.

You could feel that the bad blood that was there a few hours earlier was gone, but there was still a bit of tension that lingered.

“Spencer.”

“Hmm?”

“Since I’m probably going to be watching over you for a while, why don’t we get to know each other a little better?”

Spencer paused for a moment, a quizzical look on his face.

“But aren’t you supposed to be looking after me and not getting all buddy-buddy?” He questioned.

“I feel like it would help with your stress. Isn’t dopamine released when you smile?” You pointed out.

“It’s actually neuropeptides that are released, but you are essentially correct.” He corrected, and you put your chopsticks down.

“See, the other day when we met, you gave me a very specific percentage about exotic dancers-“

“60% of dancers have a job outside of dancing.”

“Yeah, that. And now you just gave me a medical fact about chemicals in the brain. How do you remember all of that?”

Spencer ran his hands through his hair again, looking as if he was almost nervous to tell you. 

“I have an eidetic memory. Basically I remember everything I’ve ever studied, read, or even glanced at. I mostly use it to help catch cheaters at Prodigy’s poker nights, since winners usually get the pot and a prize of my choosing.”

Huh. You didn’t know that. Was that why he remembered you and called for you earlier that day?

“That’s amazing. You know, your memory could really help us out in the field, Spencer-“

“Oh, so you’re making the job offer now, Agent? I thought I was the one in charge of that.”

He looked at you with that, the mischievous look back in his brown eyes. The dominating tone in his last sentence made your head spin, and you were brought back to that moment at Prodigy.

You couldn’t deny that he was very, very attractive. And the way he got in your face earlier and told you how it was going to be scared you and thrilled you at the same time. You were so used to being surrounded by men who threw themselves into danger to uphold the law, and Spencer was almost the opposite. He was in a dangerous situation, but he was almost unfazed. And that excited you.

You couldn’t tell who leaned in first, but you were about to thread your fingers into his hair when-

POP

“DOES YOUR KITCHEN LOOK LIKE A CRIME SCENE?? WELL WITH THIS-“

The loud announcer from the commercial caused both of you to jump away from each other. You looked down to find the remote between the both of you. 

You must've sat on it when you were leaning in.

Spencer quickly stood up, almost knocking over the coffee table in the process.

“I think it’s time to go to bed. Covers and blankets are in the closet next to my room if you need them. Goodnight.” He hummed.

The weight of what just happened hit you right as his bedroom door slammed shut. 

What was wrong with you?

The next morning was almost as awkward as last night. So awkward that Spencer left a note with a plate of breakfast instead of actually talking to you.

Y/N,  
I didn’t know how you liked your eggs, and I didn’t want to wake you up so…..I hope you like sunny-side. 

I should be in the shower, so if you need anything, knock. After I’m done, you can finish getting ready and we can head to Prodigy for the day.

-Spencer

Nothing about the night before.

You ate in silence, trying not to think about how you wished you weren’t interrupted last night.

And how the hand that gripped your blazer and your wrist would feel amazing tight around your neck….

“Stop. He’s a club owner connected to a murder and you’re an FBI agent, Y/N. Get your mind out of the gutter.” You muttered to yourself.

Luckily, your cell phone ringing kept you from thinking anymore bad thoughts.

“L/N.”

“Ah Y/N! I’m connecting you with the rest of the team.” Garcia cheered through the phone, and you smiled.

“Y/N. We got a match to the red hair attached to the letter. The strands belong to Renee Hope.” Rossi stated.

“Her brother, Devon, matches the figure in the Seductive Belle security, so we know that Renee is definitely our unsub. Garcia should be sending you headshots of both of them along with their files.” Emily added.

You could feel a buzz from your phone, and you made a mental note to check those files before heading to Prodigy.

“How is Mr. Reid?”

You tensed up at that question, pushing the bad thoughts away before answering.

“He’s fine. No one tried to break in last night, so I’ll be going with him to Prodigy tonight to make sure everything runs smoothly.”

“Good. We’ll check out Renee and Devon’s places of residence, see if we can find Rose there.”

And with Hotch’s statement, the call ended. 

With probably the quickest meeting call finished, you walked to the kitchen and washed your dishes. You weren’t a monster, after all.

You didn’t hear water running, so as you stepped towards Spencer’s room, you assumed that he was done and waiting for you to get ready.

So when you opened the door, you were surprised to find him sitting on his bed with only his dress pants on.

Even though he was hunched over one of his books, you could still see the pale sculpted muscles of his chest perfectly. 

He wasn’t super muscular, but there was enough there to run your hands over-

You quickly shut the door, stopping yourself from finishing that thought.

“Y/N? You can come in and change.”

Shit. He noticed the door closing.

“Um….coming!”

The ride to Prodigy was quiet as well, so you just kept quiet about the night before. No need to talk about it if he wasn’t going to mention it.

The girls were already there when you and Spencer arrived, and a few of them greeted the both of you.

“Good morning ladies! Where’s Blu?” Spencer chirped, a small grin on his face.

A black girl in workout clothes stepped forward, waving at you.

“So Y/N, no offense, but you can’t wear that while you’re protecting me tonight.” 

He pointed to your FBI vest.

“Why not? Renee is still at large.”

“That’s exactly why. If she comes in here and sees that bright white FBI sign, she’ll escape before you even see her. So, I asked Blu here to bring you something to wear so you could blend in. I’ll be up in my office if you need me.” Spencer explained as Blu took you by the hand.

“Hey, wait! I need to stay with-“

“Babygirl, he’ll be alright. Dmitri’s with him, and he’s a tank.” Blu assures as she brings you into the dressing room, a couple girls following her.

The glittering gold vanities lined up in the middle of the room did nothing to calm your nerves as you sat in front of one.

Out of all of the things that could have happened, you never expected this.

You watched at the bar as Spencer glided around the club floor, chatting lightly with some of the patrons.

The dress that Blu lent to you was gorgeous, the low cut of the clevage and the high slit going up your thigh making you feel like you belonged at Prodigy. And the dress was just long enough to keep yourself armed with a thigh garter, which was always a plus.

“Another water, please.”

“Put that on my tab, Danny.” Spencer noted, sliding into the stool next to you.

“Aren’t you supposed to be tricking a councilman to bet more chips at the poker tables?” You questioned.

“They don’t need my help to do what they do on their own. By the way, Blu made a good choice, that dress fits you perfectly.”

You were glad that he kept Prodigy dark, because you would’ve died of embarrassment if he saw how red your cheeks were.

“Thank you.”

He took off his colored glasses, looking you up and down.

“A sparrow? What does that symbolize?” He asked, pointing at your thigh.

You looked down, the slit in your dress revealing the black sparrow tattoo on your upper thigh.

“Ah, that. It’s an ode to my mother who died a couple of years ago. She always loved them.” You replied, trying not to sound sad.

He dragged his fingers against it, his touch gentle.

Usually, you would jump away from any new touch, but you didn’t with his. Goosebumps raised against your skin as he traced the bird on your thigh.

“Oh. My condolences for your loss.” His voice was quiet, both with awe and apology.

He pulled his hand away, and you had to keep yourself from asking him to put it back.

Danny brought you your water, and you gave him a small thank you.

“Danny. Can I ask you something?”

The bartender gave Spencer a funny look as he turned towards him.

“Yeah? What’s up, boss?”

“Do you have anything that you can arm yourself with?”

Your jaw dropped. He had to be kidding, right?

“Sir?”

“Because there might be a very dangerous-“

He wasn’t kidding. You had to get him out of there.

You quickly grabbed Spencer’s wrist, pulling him out of his barstool and towards his office. You ignored his annoyed exclamation as you pushed into his office.

The door slammed behind you, and you let go of his wrist.

“Spencer. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What did I do?” He asked, a bewildered look on his face.

What did he do?? Oh you were about to tell him exactly what he did.

“This is a covert operation! You can’t be going around telling people that there is a serial killer after you and your dancers and that they need to arm themselves!! That defeats the whole point of the operation, plus it puts you in more danger and-“

You were cut off as Spencer pulled you in and silenced you with a rough kiss.

The taste of whiskey lingered even after he pulled away, and you felt light-headed.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. You’re...very attractive when you’re angry.”

You grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him in.

“Well, keep saying stupid stuff and maybe you can make me angrier, Mr. Reid.”

You brought him back for another kiss, and he kissed back with just as much force.

You threaded your fingers through his hair, and with a slight tug he was groaning against your lips.

His hands explored your body, and everywhere he touched felt like fire on your skin. And you couldn’t get enough.

He grabbed your waist, picking you up and moving you to his desk with ease. He stopped kissing you for a moment, and the lust in his eyes made you bring him back.

His lips traveled down to your neck, where he made sure to leave his mark. You moaned loudly, your nails digging into his shoulders. 

He crashed his lips into yours again, grinding his hips against you. You could feel his clothed member hard against your core, and you groaned as you rubbed up against him

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Shit.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! I know a bunch of y'all were excited for this fanfic, so I hope you like it! Go ahead and give it a kudos and let me know what you think.
> 
> Luv ya bunches!


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